Closure
by brunette987
Summary: I'm getting closer, closer to closure. Every day's closer, closer to closure. oneshot. T just to be safe.


**Closure**

**Summary:** I'm getting closer, closer to closure. Every day's closer, closer to closure. Oneshot.

**A/N:** Constructive criticism is insanely appreciated! This is a song-fic based off of "Closure" by Aly & A.J. I suggest you listen to it before you read, because it adds to the story. Thank you(:

**Disclaimer:** As we all know, I do not own Camp Rock or Closure, or else I'd be fabulously wealthy and doing something else with my work besides posting it on fanfiction.

Shattered glass from a broken picture frame sprinkled the floor of Mitchie Torres' room. Tissues lay scattered on every surface, and the comforter that belonged to the disheveled bed lay in a heap on the floor. Mitchie lay tangled in that heap, her face red and tear stained, mascara cascading down her cheeks. In her hands she held a picture of her and Shane Grey, taken their first year at Camp Rock. The picture belonged in the shattered frame she'd thrown across the room after a phone call from Shane. He'd called just a few hours prior and broken her heart. He used a standard line: "things just aren't the same." Apparently, spending two years of their lives together meant nothing to him. Mitchie knew that he'd have a new girl by the end of the week. It only made her cry that much harder.

That was three months ago. Mitchie had shaped up, begun to move on. And every day, she got closer to closure.

A month after the break up, Mitchie saw a picture of Shane in the tabloids, exchanging spit with some slut wearing a mini skirt with stilettos. A lump formed in her throat immediately, and her eyes stung, but she was able to keep her composure. She read the accompanying article in the trashy tabloid, learning that the mystery girl appeared to be Shane's newest conquest, and they'd been sighted together multiple times – each time displaying a nauseating amount of PDA. Mitchie threw the magazine back on the street vendor cart she'd picked it up from. _She can have him._

Two weeks later, motivated by yet another trashy photo in the tabloids (this one with a different girl), Mitchie finally found herself digging through her closet, searching for the memories she'd hidden away in a plastic bin over a month ago. She pulled out the overflowing container, depleting its contents on her bedroom floor. She opened a big, black trash bag and found herself throwing all the things that reminded her of Shane into the bag – teddy bears, sweatshirts, Valentine's, birthday, and Christmas cards, even CDs of songs Shane had personally written and recorded and given to her as gifts. She then moved in front of her bedroom wall, looking at the giant collage of pictures that had collected there over the last two years. Before she fully knew what she was doing, she found herself ripping the pictures from their places on the wall, shredding and tearing them as she went. She then added the pieces to the enormous trash bag. She stopped herself as she was tying the bag closed, and reached in, pulling out the CDs with the songs – their songs – on them. She put them in a box under her bed with the picture she held the day her world fell apart. Then she tied the bag and carried it downstairs to dispose of.

Two months after Shane had broken her heart, Mitchie caught herself falling asleep in an over sized t-shirt that once smelled so strongly of hairspray and spearmint gum. The scent had faded, but there were still traces of it left in the fabric. Mitchie had become so accustomed to sleeping in that shirt – she'd had it for what, the last year and a half? She quickly changed into a shirt of her own, tossing the old one into the trash bin on the other side of her room.

Since her career had really taken off since she was discovered at Camp Rock a year ago, Mitchie had become a household name and therefore had tons of publicity events to attend. She'd decided to miss a few immediately following the break up, since Shane would definitely be there. Her manager wasn't happy, but now she was back in the business, and found herself at a release party for Year 3000(the newest and fastest rising band in the business)'s new album. Caitlyn was there for mental support, and she was looking forward to seeing some of her old camp friends who had also been discovered in the years following their first Final Jam. She was wearing a fire-engine-red dress that really accented her figure and drew attention to her from across the room. It was Caitlyn's idea, to make an entrance out of her return to the spotlight after her short break. She was at the bar, ordering a virgin strawberry daiquiri, when a tall, dark figure appeared beside her, wearing a black button down shirt and a white tie loosely around his neck.

"Can I just get a Coke?"

Mitchie looked up at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice.

"Mitch?" Shane asked, looking down at her in surprise. He laughed. "Hey. Good to see you. How've you been?"

Mitchie's heart rate quickened. He smelled like that shirt, only stronger, and he always did look good in black. Her breathing accelerated and it took her a moment to remember how to speak. She smiled. "Shane. I've been fine. And you?" She was relieved to find that her voice sounded easy going and nonchalant.

"I've been great. Really great," he said, smiling. She forced a smile back. She noticed as his eyes very quickly grazed over her frame, up and down and up again. "By the way, you look fantastic. If I'd remembered you'd looked this good when I dumped you, maybe I wouldn't have dumped you. You busy this Friday night?" he asked, his eyes sparkling, smiling that mischievous, lopsided grin of his.

Mitchie scoffed. "Oh man." She thought for a second. "Yeah. Goodbye, Shane."

"What?" Shane asked, taken aback.

"Here you go, Miss," the bartender said, sliding Mitchie's drink toward her.

She picked it up and looked at Shane one last time. "I said goodbye, Shane. It was nice knowing you." She turned on her heel and walked away before he could say anything else, smiling to herself the whole time.

It had now been three months since the initial blow, about three weeks since Mitchie turned Shane down at the release party. He'd tried calling her multiple times after that, but she always rejected the calls. Her heart was still scarred from losing Shane, but it was healing, slowly but surely. Closure came closer and closer every day.

She is walking down the busy city street, a month after the release party, finally feeling like her old self again. She's carrying her expresso in one hand, and holding the morning paper she's reading in the other, when she bumps into someone walking in the other direction, scattering her paper over the pavement and causing him to spill his coffee all over himself.

"Oh! Oh, I am so sorry!" she says, crouching down to help him pick up his things. Oh, that's going to stain!" she says, looking at his now soaked shirt.

He laughs. "It's fine, really," he says, helping her to pick up the scattered papers. She now realizes that he had been reading the paper while walking, too. "I can replace the shirt. No big deal."

Mitchie thinks his voice sounds familiar, but she isn't sure why. "Can I pay for it? Or the dry cleaning? Or-"

She cuts off as she looks up at the face of the man she's walked into for the first time. "Nate?" she asks, surprised. "Nate!" She immediately wraps her arms around his neck, engulfing him in a big bear hug.

"Mitch," Nate laughs, hugging her back, "you're going to get yourself covered in coffee."

"I don't care," she tells him, finally letting go. It's the first time they've seen each other since Mitchie and Shane broke up. They've always been close, Nate being Shane's best friend. "How are you? I've missed you so much, it's been forever."

He nods. "About three months or so, right?" Mitchie nods, too. She can't help but notice how ripped he is, with his wet shirt sticking to his chest. "I've missed you, too, Mitch. You're still one of my best friends. You are still one of my best friends, right?"

Mitchie laughs. "Of course I am," she says.

They look at each other for a few seconds before Nate breaks the silence. "Well, I'm on my way to the studio, but it was really great to see you, Mitchie. I mean it."

Mitchie nods. "Yeah, it was. We need to hang out sometime soon."

Nate nods. "We definitely do." There's a pause. "Well, I better go," Nate says, beginning to walk away. "Oh, and by the way Mitch? You're really looking good." He smiles before he turns and walks away. Mitchie feels butterflies, for the first time in so long.

When Mitchie gets home that afternoon, she sits on the floor in front of her bed, with her trashcan next to her. She pulls out the old shoe box she keeps under her bed, and sets it down in front of her, where she stares at it for a few long moments. She takes a deep breath, and opens the box. Inside are things she keeps to serve as memories, things like old pictures and birthday cards from special people. She pulls out the CDs she'd kept from throwing away a few months ago, and holds them for a minute, before she carefully places them in the trash. Then she pulls out the picture from so long ago. She traces a finger over it, remembering the happy times that seemed so far away just a few weeks ago. She then rips the picture, straight down the middle, removing Shane's face completely. She throws that half away, but she delicately places the other half back in the box, the half that shows her smiling face, looking back up at her. She wants to remember how happy she was then, and how happy she wants to be now, so she never gets lost the way she has been for the last three months ever again. She puts the lid back on the box, placing her hands on the lid. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and smiles to herself.

Finally. _Closure._

A/N: It's complete and utter crap, I know. I almost feel the need to apologize for posting it. I'm posting it because I'd love some constructive criticism, so R&R, please!


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